Storm Rising
by Haelwyn
Summary: A Wyvern Rider team of three has just one goal: to be the best Wyvern Rider team in the Kingdom! But circumstances are not so kind as they struggle in the winds of an impending war between the Kingdom and the rebel forces of Parakka.
1. Prologue

**Storm Rising**

Prologue

-.-.-

"Old friend, this is not what I had in mind when you mentioned this Parakka of yours. I wish not for battle, I thought you understood that," one middle-aged man said to the other, standing face to face in a small room, the office of the Mannali stables.

"But if we do not strike now, Macaan will begin the war, and then we will have no chance. Our spies have uncovered his preliminary plans, and I tell you, it bodes nothing good for us. Please, heed the cause."

"It makes me ill when you speak of the King that way, apparently only to me and a few of your other people from Parakka. I am satisfied with the way things are; peace suits this Kingdom," the first one said, sighing and turning his back on the other.

"It will not stay this way for long, I tell you this, old friend," the second man said, hanging his head. "How is the boy?"

"My son is fine. 17 winters by next harvest. I've told you that he's safe here, with me."

"And I'm telling you, Orem, he will be _safer_ somewhere else."

"I am not letting you take Cero away from me," he said in his gruff voice, suddenly turning to face Banto, banging his fist on the only table in the room. "I don't care what you say he is."

"You mean that he's a Resonant, or that he's in danger from the _King_?" he said, saying the last word with such contempt that made the other man's skin cringe. "We're protecting another girl in the same situation. Barely eight winters old, Orem, and already on the run from Macaan. I can help you keep him safe."

"I've heard enough, Banto. King Macaan couldn't do the atrocities you accuse him so wrongly of."

Banto, the Parakkan leader, was silent. After a few moments, he spoke again. "Why do you still defend him so strongly, when your own wife is a victim of his _peaceful reign_?"

Orem gripped his fist, and his face looked as though to slam the table once more. Instead, he let out a deep breath, the tension in his face dissipating. "Sometimes, Banto, when there's so much to protect, it's better to leave the hornet's nest alone."

"Very well, old friend," Banto said, approaching him and laying his hand on the other man's shoulder in a comradely way, but which communicated the weight of his disappointment. "I will bother you no more. Take care of your home, and your family. The King's army can show… little self-restraint, at times."

It was Orem's turn to be silent. He patted Banto's shoulder and bid him well. "Goodbye and see you soon, dear friend."

"Considering our roads, old friend," Banto said, chuckling sadly, as he left. "I doubt you will."


	2. New Beginnings

Chapter 1

New Beginnings

-.-.-

A couple of workers jumped out of the way as a wyvern screeched overhead, its powerful wings blasting the air and sand beneath it. A resounding thud later and it had landed in the middle of the dusty open area, a confident youth giving a loud "whoop" from its back.

Cero hopped off the back of the young bull wyvern, leading it to its stall in the stables. As he had expected, the chief came fuming.

"Cero! How many times do I have to tell you to land properly in the clearing at the north end? This is the second warning this month; the next time this happens -," the chief of staff scolded, his ever-present clipboard quivering nearly imperceptibly in his agitated grip. Cero, by now, could tell how angry he was by how much it shook.

After a quick glance at the clipboard, Cero answered confidently "I know, I know, I'll be grounded next month. I got it. But hey, no harm done, anyway."

"And the dozens of broken equipment, dirtied supplies, and fainted employees count as -,"

"Alright, _not much_ harm done. I'll be careful next time, I promise," he said, hardly batting an eyelid as the chief finally left him at the door of the stables.

"Don't bother promising what you can't follow through, boy," the gaunt man huffed, walking away quickly, as though to avoid any further aggravation.

"Don't bother promising," Cero mimicked in a high-pitched voice, talking to the wyvern. He secured it in its stall, slamming the doors and setting down objects with a little more vigor than usual. "Tch, make up your mind, old man. I'll be head of this place soon enough, so-,"

"You getting along fine, Cero?" a boy around his age called out to him as he walked out of the stables. He was carrying an irregularly shaped piece of machinery, just barely managing with its weight. His hair was tied in a tight ponytail high on his head, but the rest was plastered with sweat to his face, and his clothes also spoke of the toil and heat he'd been through throughout the day.

"O hey, Dante," Cero said, idly waving at the boy. "Just came back from a ride."

"Ya don't say. Wouldn't have told by the wyvern landing in the middle of the courtyard," Dante said, setting down the machine and wiping off sweat with a scarf that lazy loosely around his neck. "So that makes it- how many this month?"

"It's just the second warning, man. I'll be fine," he said, shrugging off the thought. "D'you need help with that or something?"

"Sure would appreciate it," Dante said, waiting for Cero to come over. They both bent at the knees and got ready to pick up the heavy object.

"Alright, on the count of one, two-," Dante began.

"Hey, Cero, the boss's calling ya!" the gruff voice of one of the other workers boomed from across the courtyard, in the doorway of the stables' main office.

"Oof," Cero said, setting down the machine. "Well, sorry, Dante, but I'm a busy man."

"Ah, heck, go get yourself in trouble, airhead," the other boy said, picking up the heavy object by himself.

-.-.-

"Trouble always seems to find you, now doesn't it, Cero?" Orem said, leaning forward on the only table in the room.

Cero laughed before replying. "Now there's a nice way of putting it. Getting into trouble finally _sounds_ good."

"Bako here has helped me go through your records-," the owner of the stables said, motioning to his chief-of-staff, standing at his physical and figurative right-hand side, then to papers stacked on his desk.

"I've only got two warnings this month," Cero said defensively. "And I even discovered that crack in the hatchery wall last month-,"

"By promptly crashing through it with one of our finest bull wyverns," Orem finished. "And you've been consistently poorly-rated for the past several months, not to mention you've been grounded almost every other month for reckless, imprudent, and dangerous behavior."

Cero remained silent this time.

"You have to understand that I'm trying to run a respectable wyvern stud here. And though you may be my s-," Orem said, but then cut himself off, sighing deeply and rubbing his forehead. His voice was weighted with heavy emotion. "And though you are _family_, I expect you to behave appropriately, and uphold this _family_ business."

"I get it, Da-," Cero replied, catching himself mid-sentence. "I understand, Boss."

"Good. Now," he said, suddenly lightening the atmosphere. "It has been decided that you be given due punishment for your _actions_. And here it is," Orem said, sliding several pieces of paper to him.

Cero picked up the papers and glanced through them. "So you're giving me- an assistant?"

"No, an applicant for wyvern handler. They're going to be working part-time here at the stud."

"And you're _giving_ them to me because- why again?"

"Well, Mr. Hotshot Wyvern Rider, you're going to be training them."

-.-.-

"-And so, it is with great pride and pleasure that I welcome you to the Mannali wyvern stud, home of the finest wyverns in the entire kingdom," Cero said, with a flourish of hands at the end of it.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Dante said dryly, from where he sat atop a pile of lumber.

Cero had dragged him away from his workshop first thing this morning in order to test his new "trainers' script" for the new part-timer. They were sitting a ways from the cluster of buildings, up against a cliff that ran the northern wall of the stud.

"Well, you forgot to mention that we are actually the breeders of the fastest racing wyverns, and that we also have the most state-of-the-art hatchery, complete with fully-automatic temperature regulations-,"

"Blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada," Cero said, mimicking mouth movements with his hand. "This is why I never bother to listen to those things. No one wants to apply to a job to be bored to death."

"And this is why Orem's giving you this assignment in the first place. To teach you about patience or responsibility or- something. But hey, at least you're not grounded, like the time you flew into the hatchery wall-"

"Don't _you _start bringing up these things again. Yeesh, sometimes I wonder if you're a psychometric or something."

Dante laughed heartily, nearly falling off the stack of logs. "Nope, just metalsmith through and through," he said, motioning vaguely to his back, where three spirit-stones lay aligned with his spine, giving him power to work with metal and other machines.

Cero nodded vaguely, then glanced over his shoulder absently. Everyone on the wyvern stud knew that Cero had no spirit-stones; hence he had the nickname of "Zero." Not that he was especially angry about it or anything. It just made him- different.

"This Shima better be worth my time. I don't want to have to babysit this 17-winter-old kid," Cero said, glancing at his copy of Shima's biographic data.

"Saith the beardless youth of 18 winters," Dante jabbed, leaping off the wood. "Well, I'd better leave you to your mentor duties. Raise your young padawan well."

"Oh skitter off," Cero said, playfully punching the metalsmith as he walked away. "This is gonna be a breeze."


End file.
